


The Kings, The Plot and the New Lovers

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [59]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: An Attempted Coup, Anal Sex, Angst, Betrayal, Depression and Despair, Letters, M/M, New Lovers for our Two Kings, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:32:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: Thorin and Thranduil return to Mirkwood after a long absence to find that certain things have changed.  They’re in trouble and their relationship is threatened when new lovers enter their lives.  Is this the end of the famous Mirkwood/Erebor affair?





	The Kings, The Plot and the New Lovers

 

 

.o00o.

 

The Kings, the Plot and the New Lovers

 

Pt I

 

“Nearly there,” sighed Thranduil.  “We should be back in Mirkwood by tomorrow.”  He and Thorin had been absent for some months on a courtesy trip to the Grey Havens to see the elf’s relatives.  It was politically important that they keep in touch with the elves of Lindon and they had enjoyed spending so much time together but now the fun was coming to an end.

 

“Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your son and your courtiers and the Mirkwood council?” grinned Thorin as he lay on top of his lover in their bedroll, under the trees and under the stars.

 

Thranduil gave him a wry grin in return.  “It’s the last of those three who don’t bring me much pleasure.  And I’m wondering what they’ve been up to behind my back.  When we were away for a long time before and Castor came in pursuit of me on our return, they did their best to hand me over to him when he insisted on claiming his ‘slave’.  There’s not much love lost between us – especially between me and Badhron.  It’s always been a bit of a power struggle  and I get a little anxious when I leave Legolas in charge in case someone has seized my throne by the time I get back.  That business with Castor was a warning shot across my bows.”

 

Thorin wriggled more deeply inside Thranduil and the elf gave a sensuous groan and wrapped his legs more tightly around his lover’s waist.  “Well,” gasped the dwarven king after he had treated his lover to a series of hard thrusts, “if he _has_ seized your throne, then there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment.  Might as well enjoy ourselves while we can.”  He didn’t really believe that anything had happened in the elven kingdom but, since it was his duty to cheer his partner up, Thranduil’s concerns were as good a reason as any for a nice, prolonged screw.

 

.o00o.

 

 

The guards at the gate of the Mirkwood fortress saluted the two kings smartly, but Thorin thought that they were given an odd look and he immediately began to feel slightly uneasy.  No sooner were they in Thranduil’s apartment, where they were in the process of giving the deep feather mattress a longing look, than there came a sharp knock at the door and Legolas entered, looking quite flustered.

 

“There’s trouble, Ada,” he said anxiously.  “You’re wanted at a meeting of the Council.”  And all three hastened down to the Great Chamber.

 

As they walked, the elven prince tried to fill them in.  “It’s Badhron,” he muttered.  “He’s been stirring ever since you left.  I’m not quite sure what he’s up to, but I’ve caught him whispering to members of the Council in dark corners and, every time I’ve approached them, he has immediately fallen silent.  And he’s been holding loads of meetings - meetings to which I haven’t been invited.”

 

The two kings looked at each other.

 

“And, of course, father, you may have left me in charge but I am not a member of the Council and can only attend the meetings to which I am invited.  And they have made a point of not inviting me.”  He looked at Thranduil anxiously.  “I’m sorry if I have let you down, Ada, but my political skills are nowhere near as good as yours.  I’m not ready to govern yet – I’m still learning.”

 

Thranduil gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  “You will be a very fine ruler one day, Legolas.  But, let’s not try to second-guess the situation until we’ve heard what they have to say.”

 

When the three entered the Chamber, they found Thranduil’s chair set out before a semi-circle of Council members.  Badhron stood and gestured him graciously into it.  Thranduil sat down and crossed an elegant boot.  Then he said icily: “Chairs too, perhaps, for my partner and my son?”

 

Badhron waved an airily dismissive hand.  “They are not members of the Council, but they are welcome to stay for the meeting – although, of course, they cannot have a say in any matter.”

 

Thorin’s hand on the elven king’s shoulder pressed a gentle warning and Thranduil made no further protest.

 

“I’ll get straight to the heart of the matter,” announced the elven courtier.  “We feel, my lord king, that you have been failing in your duty as our king.”

 

Thranduil raised an amazed eyebrow.

 

“Ever since you have taken the King of Erebor as your partner, the Council has noticed that you spend far too much time away from Mirkwood.”

 

“When I visit Erebor,” snapped the king, “I take all my work with me, as does Thorin when he visits Mirkwood.  In no way do either of us fail in our duties to our kingdoms.  And if you are talking about my visits to The Grey Havens, then these involve important matters of state and diplomacy and have nothing to do with Thorin.”

 

“Ah, yes,” murmured Badhron, steepling his fingers, “but what about your expeditions to the Blue Mountains to visit Thorin’s sister or the one to the Iron Hills on a jolly to visit Dain, the father of his heir?  You have spent months away over the past few years, weeks when you wouldn’t have absented yourself were you not married to the dwarf.”

 

Thorin squeezed the elven king’s shoulder gently again as he felt his lover’s body tighten in anger at the mention of ‘the dwarf’.

 

“And,” continued Badhron with no pause, “your relationship with your partner is so unstable that you constantly fight with each other.  At such times, you shut yourself away and are not available for consultation.  Nor do such fights encourage a satisfactory situation between Mirkwood and Erebor – in fact, it could be seen as downright dangerous.”

 

Then, before Thranduil could reply, the elf lord summed up the situation with: “And so, we have concluded that you must make a choice, a choice between Mirkwood and Thorin.  Either you perform your duties as king in a proper manner and abandon your partner, giving up all contact with him and his kingdom, or you choose Thorin, leaving Mirkwood for Erebor, never to return here again.  If you choose the latter, of course, Legolas will become king in your place.”

 

Legolas gazed helplessly at his father, a pleading look in his eyes.  He knew that, in the hands of the Council, he would become a puppet king.

 

Thranduil gazed furiously along the line of Councillors, looking for support.  He saw very little, except from one or two, like his friend Glinor, who sent him a sympathetic glance.  Badhron had made his move – and it had been a successful one.

 

“I choose Mirkwood,” he said through gritted teeth.  He would lose the battle completely if he left for Erebor.  What could he do there to save his crown?   Legolas looked relieved and Thorin squeezed his shoulder yet again.  Thank goodness his lover understood the ins and outs of politics.  He could see that Badhron had been hoping that his love for the dwarven king meant that he would leave Mirkwood in Legolas’ hands. At least he had trumped him there.

 

But Badhron continued smoothly, trying not to show his irritation: “Since you have chosen Mirkwood, then the dwarf must pack and be gone within the hour.”

 

Without a word, Thranduil swept from the room with Thorin and Legolas in his wake.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

 

Back in Thranduil’s apartments, Legolas had given Thorin a warm hug: “Don’t worry,” he said.  “My father will sort it out.  Give him time.”  Then he had left them to say their farewells.

 

The two kings now lay on the bed together, gazing into each other’s eyes.  They were too shocked by what had just happened to make love but tried to savour every last minute they had together.  Thranduil touched Thorin’s face tenderly: “You know how much I love you and you know how I shall be working every moment to overcome Badhron and reverse this decision.  But, it might take weeks, even months.  You do understand, don’t you?”

 

Thorin kissed the elven king gently and gave a wry smile.  “I know the burdens of kingship only too well,” he sighed. “I remember that time when I refused to let an injured Kili come with my Company on the last leg of our journey and ordered him to stay in Dale.  My first duty was to the Quest but he was very upset and Fili was furious with me.  I told him he would understand when he became king.  And now that day will never come.  I should never have let them accompany me in the first place but I made that decision and now must bear the weight of that decision.”

 

Thranduil pulled him tightly against his breast and they stayed like that for a long time.  At last, with a sigh, they parted.  Thranduil accompanied Thorin down to the stables and helped him on his horse.  And, as he waved him goodbye and saw him disappear out of sight, the elf wondered how long it would be before he held him in his arms again.

 

.o00o.

 

Back in Erebor, Thorin found the first two weeks apart easy enough to manage – after all, they usually spent such time apart on a regular basis.  But, after a month, he began to feel depressed.  The situation was made worse by a lack of communication.  He wrote to Thranduil every day but received not a single letter in reply.  He wondered if their letters were being intercepted or if Thranduil thought it best that they just gritted their teeth and tried to forget each other for the moment.

 

His friends had been very supportive, but, after two months, Thorin found he couldn’t cope any longer without the elven king’s love and he retired to his room.  A concerned Dwalin and Brangwyn went to visit him and were shocked when they saw how pale and drawn he looked.

 

“I shall die without him,” he whispered.  And they could believe it.  They took turns to visit him but nothing seemed to combat his lethargy.  “Perhaps he has forgotten me,” he said.  “Perhaps he has decided that his kingdom is more important than I am and he has given up the fight with Badhron.”  For all their reassurances, he just grew more pale and gaunt.

 

Three months went by and there had still been no word from Thranduil.  Then, finally – finally – a letter came from Mirkwood.  It was Thranduil’s handwriting and Thranduil’s seal, and, with trembling hands, Thorin tore open the missive.

 

It was Brangwyn who found him an hour later when she came on one of her regular visits.  Thorin was sitting, still as a stone in his chair, gazing blindly ahead.  “Thorin?” she cried, but there was no response.  And then she noticed a letter on the floor and she picked it up.  It was from Thranduil and she felt compelled to read it.

 

 _Dear Thorin_ , it said,

_This is a difficult letter for me to write because you have always meant so much to me.  But, I feel that the honesty which exists between us obliges me to tell the truth of what has been happening in the past few months.  After you left, I set about talking to many of my councillors, trying to persuade them that their decision to break up our relationship had been a bad one.  Many were very sympathetic but they also spoke to me at length, explaining why they thought that our marriage had not been conducive to the welfare of Mirkwood._

_And, I’m afraid, dear Thorin, that they finally convinced me of that truth.  I have been reluctant to write to you because I knew you were waiting to hear the news that you would be able to return so that we could continue as before.  But, I’m afraid that I have come to far different conclusions.  Sadly, Thorin, we can never be as we were and you must accept this as I have._

_Furthermore, during the passing weeks, I have met an elf lord, visiting from Galadriel’s court, for whom I have developed a strong attraction.  We wish to live together in Mirkwood and the Council have given me their permission.  This new relationship will help me to get over all that has passed between us and I can only hope that you, too, will find someone with whom you hope to spend the rest of your life._

_With affection, Thranduil_

_“With affection!!”_ spluttered Brangwyn.  “I don’t believe this! How could Thranduil have written such a letter?!”

 

“You can see his hand and his seal,” responded Thorin dully.

 

“Well, perhaps they held a knife at his throat and forced him to write this.  Or – or – perhaps they have brainwashed him into believing everything they say.”  Brangwyn clutched her forehead in desperation.

 

“Yes, perhaps,” muttered Thorin.  “But I have gone through every possibility and have been forced to conclude that, for some reason, Thranduil has abandoned me for his throne and for another.”

 

“Don’t you dare believe that!” cried the dwarf woman.  “Don’t you DARE believe it!!” And, weeping, she fled from the room.  Thorin continued to sit there, staring blankly at the floor.

 

Over the next few days, all of Thorin’s friends visited him, trying to give him comfort.  And, gradually, he began to eat a little and to be more responsive.  But, he refused to leave his room.

 

Then, one afternoon, there was a knock.  Thinking it must be one of his friends, Thorin dragged himself up from his bed, where he now spent most of his time, and stumbled over to the door and opened it.

 

For a moment, he thought it was Thranduil and his heart lurched into his mouth.  He felt sick and dizzy and, because he was greatly weakened from lack of food and sleep, he swayed on the spot and then passed out.

 

When he came to, his visitor had moved him to his bed and was bending over him anxiously.  “It’s all right,” he said quietly.  “It’s only me – Sebastian.”

 

Sebastian!  Of course!  The artist from Minas Tirith and his one-time servant.  No, he was getting confused again.  The real Sebastian had never been his servant.  Instead, Thranduil had played a silly game on his partner and had used the art of glamourie to make himself look like (a rather more handsome version of) Sebastian.  He had pretended to be a servant and had been so wonderful that Thorin had fallen for him and they had finished up in bed together.  What an argument that had eventually caused between the two kings: even though it had been Thranduil that Thorin had fucked, the elf had seen it as some kind of betrayal!  But, now, seeing the real Sebastian once more – tall, good-looking, bearded, blond hair tied back in a man bun – Thorin couldn’t help but think of Thranduil and he reached out a hand yearningly to him and stroked his face.

 

Sebastian took his hand and held it gently.  “I heard about what had happened,” he said, “and that you were unwell.  I thought perhaps that you might need someone to look after you.  Would you like that?” he asked earnestly.

 

“Yes,” whispered Thorin, unable to tear his eyes from his face.  “I would like that very much.”  And it never occurred to him to ask who had written to the artist in far-away Minas Tirith.

 

Sebastian went to unpack his gear in the little cubby-hole of a bedroom that led off from the main room.  From his rucksack, he pulled out a letter and grinned.  It was from Badhron and it was worth a lot of money to him.  It had arrived in Minas Tirith when he had been going through a bad patch.  No-one had wanted to buy his paintings and he had got to the point where he had genuinely wondered if he would starve in his garret.  The letter, a small pouch of gold and the promise of more had come in the nick of time.  He had packed his bags straight away and had travelled to Erebor.  And now, the first part of his assignment was successfully completed: he had inveigled his way into Thorin’s life.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

Sebastian looked after Thorin for three days, feeding him, bathing him and talking quietly with him until the king felt well enough to go downstairs.  His companions were pleased and relieved when Thorin made his appearance and thanked Sebastian for his efforts.   In fact, they were rather happy to see him since he had become quite a popular figure in Erebor after the artist had painted and sold a number of miniatures of their king, some of them quite naughty, for their bedside tables.  Thorin seemed to have forgotten his irritation; instead, his sad eyes followed Sebastian around the room.

 

“Thank goodness that bloke turned up,” rumbled Dwalin to his partner, Bris.  “He seems to have cheered him up.  Now, the next thing he needs to do is give Thorin a good fuck, just to show him that Thranduil’s isn’t the only cock in the world.”  The dwarven king’s faithful friend had been really angry to hear about Thranduil’s new elven lover and, well, you know, what’s sauce for the goose……   But, Bris felt rather uneasy, even if she wasn’t quite sure why.  However, for the moment, she would keep her own council.

 

Thorin was also wondering about a good fuck as he kept close to Sebastian’s side.  In a weird way, the artist was his last contact with the elven king.  He reminded him of that happy time when Thranduil, disguised as Sebastian, had pretended to be his faithful servant: he had looked after him so completely and with such a tender, nurturing manner that Thorin had been drawn to him in a strangely unexpected way.  And now the same thing was happening with the real Sebastian.  He kept telling himself it was just because he missed Thranduil so much, but then he thought ‘Why not?’

 

Yes, why not?  Thranduil had deserted him – and so cruelly – in a letter, no less.  Why shouldn’t he seek comfort elsewhere?

 

And so, that evening, Thorin waited until it was time for a bath.  The dwarven king stood in the bathing pool naked, whilst Sebastian, modestly wearing a loin-cloth, sponged him down, first his back and then his great chest.  As Thorin turned to face him, the king gently took him by the wrist and, removing the sponge, brought Sebastian’s hand down to touch his stiffened cock.

 

“Yess!” thought the man to himself.  “Success!”  He managed to look surprised and then he demonstrated a tender interest, followed by desire.  Thorin read these signals with relief: he had not wanted to cause offence.  Then Sebastian’s hand gripped his swollen member and he leaned forward to whisper in Thorin’s ear.

 

“I have wanted you ever since we first met in my studio in Mirkwood,” he murmured, “when you thought I was Thranduil.  You pushed me down on the couch and gave me the beginnings of a magnificent blow-job – sadly interrupted.  I have thought of you ever since.”  This was true.  The dwarven king had an animal magnetism and Sebastian had so wanted to fuck him ever since that moment on the couch.  And now, unbelievably, he had his chance.  AND, he was being paid for it!

 

He undid his loin cloth and cast it to one side so that Thorin could see the size of his own erection.  Then he nuzzled the king’s neck and murmured, “Turn around.”  The king turned and grasped the marble edge of the bathing pool, bending forward with splayed thighs whilst Sebastian thrust into him with all the lust that had been accumulating since he had first met him that time in his studio.  Thorin found it painful and he grunted but then he did his best to relax as Sebastian seized him by his hips and built up a rhythm.

 

As the artist-turned-servant groaned and banged away and grasped the king’s cock with eager hand, Thorin suddenly realised that this was a mistake.  Sebastian was not Thranduil, his only love, and never would be.  But, feeling guilty at leading the man on, he shut his eyes and imagined that the cock up his backside was Thranduil’s.  He did this so successfully that when Sebastian screamed and came in jerking throbs, Thorin managed to come too.  He leaned gasping on the marble rim whilst the artist kissed his great shoulders and told him how much he loved him and how he couldn’t believe that they were now lovers.

 

Thorin’s heart sank.  How could he tell this faithful servant that he had just fucked his king for the first and last time?  And, as Sebastian poured out his heart to him, he decided that he would let the affair continue for a few days out of gratitude for all that he had done for him and then he would gently tell him that it was over.  He would have to think of a kind way to say it.

 

The next few days were a bit of an endurance test.  Sebastian had the stamina of a dwarf and was forever looking for an opportunity for a good screw.  He slept in Thorin’s bed at night, groping him and forcing himself upon him and, during the day, there was always their time in the bath, of course, and, it would have continued throughout the day if Thorin hadn’t escaped downstairs to the great hall, where all his friends were pleased to see him but made constant embarrassing jokes when it became obvious that something was going on between their king and his servant.  Thorin wasn’t quite sure which was worse.

 

After nearly a week of this had passed, Thorin finally woke up one morning with the determination that he would tell Sebastian that day.  The artist mauled and pawed him in the bathing pool and then they climbed out and made for the bedroom.  “Just one more time,” thought Thorin, as he braced himself both for the fuck and the revelation that this was the last.

 

Sebastian enjoyed taking control and he liked being rough.  He pushed Thorin face down on the mattress and held him quite painfully by the back of his neck.  Then he stood between his thighs and forced his way into him.   He liked to get up a good, hard speed almost immediately and Thorin didn’t object because it meant that things reached their conclusion all the more quickly.  But, as he shouted filthy names at Thorin and came in such violent lurches and jerks that he nearly had the dwarf off the bed, the bedroom door swung open and Thranduil stood on the threshold.

 

Thorin lay aghast on the bed with Sebastian’s cock still pounding away up his backside as the man wrung the very last sensations out of his orgasm.  He was too far gone in an ecstatic daze to notice Thranduil’s presence, but thrust and groaned and swore and dug his fingers into Thorin’s buttocks until he finally collapsed upon the dwarf’s back, biting his shoulder so hard that he drew blood.

 

“You’re such a good fuck,” he moaned.  “No wonder I could screw you every hour of the day.”

 

“Get out!” hissed Thranduil, with a terrible anger in his voice.  “Get out before I kill you!”

 

Sebastian’s eyes snapped open and, terrified, he grabbed his clothes and, edging past the elven king who looked ready to break his neck, he dashed to his cubby-hole, pulled on his shirt and breeches and stuffed a bag with his belongings.  He left the apartment with all speed, strewing articles in his wake.  Then, trembling, he made his way down to the stables and fled on his horse, wondering if that truly frightening experience had been worth all the money that Badhron had paid him.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

“You filthy whore!” snarled Thranduil, gazing in disgust at the blood and cum that smeared Thorin’s body.

 

But, Thorin was just as angry.  How could the elven king throw insults at him when he had abandoned him and taken up with another lover himself?  Was he expected to live a chaste life until the day he died because he had once belonged to Thranduil?  And he rose from the bed and wrapped a towel around himself, glaring back at his one-time partner.  “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

 

“What am I doing here?” Thranduil asked in amazement.  “I’m here to tell you the good news that after I had worked on all the councillors for months, reminding them how much they liked and valued you and pointing out the exceptional peace that has existed between Mirkwood and Erebor ever since our partnership, they finally had another vote and decided to reverse Badhron’s decisions.  We are free to live together again – although I think I may have changed my mind!” 

 

And he remembered briefly, after the successful vote, the nasty smile on Badhron’s face as he said: “You’re assuming, of course, that the dwarf is still waiting for you.”

 

“Free to live as a threesome?” asked Thorin sarcastically, wondering when the elven lover would be mentioned.

 

“What on earth are you talking about?” snarled Thranduil.

 

“I’m talking about the elf lord from Galadriel’s court whom you now apparently love ,” was the hurt and bitter response.

 

“You’re making no sense,” said Thranduil angrily.  “Who told you these lies?”

 

“You did,” returned Thorin, snatching the letter from his bedside cabinet and thrusting it at the king.

 

Thranduil saw his handwriting and his seal and then opened the letter with a puzzled expression on his face.  He read it in silence and then he screwed it up and threw it in the dwarf’s face.  “You believed all this?” he yelled.  “It’s a forgery, you fool!  And you thought I would abandon you and take up with another?”

 

Thorin sat down abruptly on the bed.  He felt upset and confused.  He should be thrilled at Thranduil’s success and at the lack of another lover.  But, if this were true, then it did, indeed, not only make him a fool but the faithless one and the betrayer.

 

Before he could say anything, Thranduil gave him a scornful look and then he was gone. Thorin half-rose to follow him and then he slumped back on the bed in despair.  What was there to say in his own defence?  Legolas had told him that his father would sort things out and he had done.  But, he had not trusted him to do so.  Brangwyn had doubted the contents of that letter and yet he had allowed himself to be deceived.

 

.o00o.

 

Bris always had her ear close to the ground.  She noted Sebastian’s hasty retreat; she saw with pleasure Thranduil’s arrival and then was concerned when he swept away on his horse.  As he disappeared from the fortress, she hurried upstairs to Thorin’s apartment.  She knocked on the door and, when there was no reply, she cautiously entered and crossed to the bedroom.  The floor, she noted, was strewn with odds and ends, some of which she recognised as Sebastian’s.  In the middle of these articles was a letter which she picked up curiously: she had always been a nosy woman.  It was to Sebastian from Badhron and her eyes widened as she read it.  Then, the steam coming out of her ears, she barged her way into Thorin’s bedroom.

 

“Get up!” she said angrily when she saw him slumped on the bed.  “And just you read this!”

 

She shoved the letter under his nose and a bemused Thorin scanned its content, his jaw dropping.  In it, Badhron was offering Sebastian a large sum of money if he could seduce the dwarven king.  He described how he wished the artist to help him form a pincer movement which would lead to a complete breakdown in the relationship between the two kings; he himself would forge a letter which would convince Thorin of Thranduil’s unfaithfulness, whilst Sebastian set up the dwarven king so that it would appear to the elven king that Thorin had likewise betrayed him.  His payment, if he achieved this, was a very large sum indeed.

 

“Get after him!” snapped Bris.  “Let him see how Badhron has manipulated you both in his desire to seize power in Mirkwood.”

 

.o00o.

 

Thranduil was exhausted by the time he reached the Mirkwood stronghold.  In his rooms, he shut the door behind him and collapsed on a chair, drained both physically and emotionally.  All the way home, images of Sebastian fucking Thorin had flashed through his mind: they had stabbed him like sharp knives and the pain was immense.  Would he ever recover?

 

He had only been resting for half an hour when Thorin burst into the room.  The guards tried to restrain him but he threw them off and forced his way in anyway.  “Read this and I’ll go,” panted the dwarf and he thrust a letter into the elf’s hands.

 

The content was shocking. 

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Thorin asked.  But the elven king shook his head slowly and the pair of them sat down together. 

 

They sat in silence for a very long time.  And then Thranduil said: “He has used us.  He has tried to set us one against the other and he has succeeded.”

 

But Thorin put his arm about him and said: “He has not succeeded because his plot has been foiled…..And I still love you and cannot live without you.”

 

Thranduil took Thorin’s face between his hands and kissed him.  “Nor can I live without you,” he murmured.  “This has been a very painful lesson for us both – one that I shall never forget.”

 

They got undressed and climbed tiredly into bed.  There they held and caressed each other until they both fell asleep.  When the sun arose, Thranduil roused Thorin with his kisses.  “I know you’re not a morning person…..”

 

“….but….” laughed the dwarven king.  And he kissed the elf deeply and slipped his hand between his thighs and squeezed his prick.  “Mmm,” he whispered into his neck.  “I think I could be persuaded.”

 

.o00o.

 

**Well, that was a struggle to write, dear readers.  I had it in my head for ages but couldn’t find the time to get it down on paper.  After all that, I hope you enjoyed it.  I wonder what will happen to Badhron?  Perhaps he should be rolled downhill in a barrel of nails, LOL!**

**Those two guys never learn to completely trust each other, do they?  But, if they did, that would be the end of all our fun.**

**As an aside for Thorin/Richard Armitage lovers, Netflix will soon be putting up an animated serial which is based on a popular game called ‘Castlevania’.  RA will be voicing the hero.  And such a lovely voice he has too.  And, as a delightful extra for all dwarven fans, Dwalin/Graham McTavish will be one of the characters as well.  I’ll be there!**

**Have a good summer!**

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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